


Fears of the Heart Affair

by jkkitty



Series: Story with Napoleon, Illya, Josephina (would suggest reading in order as it a growing relationship although all story are complete and separate) [11]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jkkitty/pseuds/jkkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UNCLE's top agents must face their personal feelings when one of their own is taken to facilitate a trade for a high ranking Thrush operative. Warning: scenes of torture, suggested rape, some language~ nothing graphic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fears of the Heart Affair

Chapter 1

Josephine Nichovia Kuryakin, Section 2 agent and computer expert was bored. On light duty because of injuries, she had finished up all her paperwork, qualified on the gun and knife range, and worked on a number of problems in the computer lab, but after all that she still found herself unsettled as she didn’t have much patience when it came to mundane, everyday work.

Unable to go on an assignment until released by medical, she had begun to wander the maze of hallways that made up UNCLE to reliever the tedium; finally she decided to address the issue head on with the CEA.

Entering the office of UNCLE CEA Napoleon Solo and her brother Illya Kuryakin, his number two agent, she sat on the edge of the CEA's desk. “You have to give me something to do in the way of an assignment.”

“Do I now? Did Medical release you from light duty?” He was trying to suppress a grin as he leaned back in his chair staring into her blue eyes but failing and looked toward his partner who was hiding behind an upheld report.

“Since when do you care what Medical says,” she swung toward her brother, “Neither of you ever do.”

“It’s only for another week. Let’s see, you are recovering from two broken ribs, a concussion, and a bullet wound to your leg. No way, I pick my fights with Medical.”

“If I were one of the guys, you would help out,” she sulked.

“Don’t play that card Jo. You know better and besides I like having time with my girl when she is healthy.”

 “Not that we have had much of that either,” she mumbled.

She was playing with the commitment ring he’d given her. They both had agreed that their relationship came second to their jobs and professional allegiances. They spent as much time together as they were allowed to and as often as possible, but assignments and injuries kept that at a minimum.

 Jo turned toward Illya, “Come on, you have some pull. What good is a brother, if he does not stand up for you?”

He tried to stifle his smile, “Sorry.”

She sat on the desk pouting for a few minutes then decided to try another tactic. She slipped from the desk, walking around then lowering herself into Napoleon's lap; giving him pecks him on the cheek, lips, and forehead, running her hands over his chest and said please. 

 “Josephina Nichovia Kuryakin, we're at the office right now and I remind you of our agreement that you insisted on; work is work and play is play.  My love, just think no one hurting you for another week.” 

“You, the great lover Napoleon Solo are turning me down!”

“Illya, can you please take your sister to lunch or something. I have to complete this report for the meeting later today.”

 “Isportitʹ sporta _(spoil sport),”_ she shot at him.

“I do understand Russian, you know.”   She gave him a sour look and turned to her brother.

“Come on, lunch will give you something to do with your hands besides molesting my partner,” he said as he stood up and grabbed his coat.

 “Okay, Solo but wait till you want something,” she suggestively raised her eyebrows and left.

Illya’s Fear

The sibling sat together at the new Polish restaurant with their meal. _Papryka nadziewana_ _(stuffed green pepper_ ) for Jo, _golumpki_ _(stuff cabbage)_ for Illya, and _czarnia_ in front of them both.    

Illya seemed distracted. “A ruble for your thoughts.”

He suddenly took her hands and kissed them, “Just thinking how much it hurts when you come in injured. I always have the fear that you will not come back to me.”

“Illyusha but I will always come back.”

“Too often I have almost lost you. Do you remember the time we were playing tag on the ice and you fell in. We were so young, and I could not pull you out. I yelled and yelled until finally papa showed up. He pulled you out and held you so tightly. Then he let me hold you. I cried so hard until you tagged me and said you are it. I almost lost you that day.”

 “But you did not. I was scared but knew you were with me.”

“Then the day that you were taken away from me after everyone was killed. That shot I heard, I was sure you were gone forever. I never let anyone get close after that. Now I have you here with me and do not want ever to lose you again.”

_“Illyusha moĭ dorogoĭ brat, ya vernusʹ k vam vsegda, yesli ya mogu. (My dear brother, I will come back to you always if I can). No ya dolzhen delatʹ to, chto ya mogu, chtoby prinesti mir vmire. (But I must do what I can to bring peace to the world_ ). _YA obeshchayu, chto nikogda ne ostavit vas dobrovolʹno, no, pozhaluĭsta, ne sprashivaĭte menya , chtoby datʹ eto. (I promise I will never leave you voluntarily, but please do not ask me to give this up.)”_

_“Nyet, YA ne budu , no obeshchayu vam neprestanno pytayut•sya vernutʹsya ko mne sestrenku_ _(No, I will not but promise you will always try to come back to me little sister).”_

“ _Da, YA eto sdelayu. Vy obeshchaete, tozhe?_ _(I will. Do you promise also?)_

_“Da, Obeshchayu takzhe_ _(Yes, I promise also).”_

“Enough of these thoughts, let’s eat,” Jo said as she let go of his hands. “Eat my _bolʹshoĭ brat_ _(big brother)_. Once your stomach is full, you will feel much better.”

Illya answered her with a boyish smile and a hefty bite of his food, “You better finish that before I am done, or you might lose it.” She smiled and began eating some of her own meal.

********

 

After they returned to Headquarters, she tried once more to get convince Napoleon. “Please, give me anything to do to get out of this steel prison.”

“I’m sure Mr. Waverly won’t appreciate your description of our building. I have nothing that I can assign to you. How about if I make it up to you with dinner and dancing tonight?”

 Jo took a deep breath, “Maybe Thrush will try something there,” she said hopefully, “Okay dinner and dancing, if you are sure it is not against my medical restrictions.”

 “I’ll be at your apartment at 6, okay.”

Agreeing, she left his office in search of another agent to talk to until later that evening.

***********

 

She had been pacing the room waiting for Napoleon for over a half an hour before he called. “Sorry love, a pair of agents are pinned down outside of town with some vital information. Illya and I are leading a rescue group so I won’t make our date tonight. Tell you what, meet me by my car tomorrow morning at 9 and I’ll have a little assignment for you.”

“Okay, be safe.” She was disappointed but understood the importance of what was going on and knew that if anyone could save the agents, her men could.

She went to bed after grabbing the stuff black leopard that Napoleon had given her in the hospital, “Maybe you can keep my bed warm tonight seeing he is not here to do it,” she told it as she fell asleep.

Jo’s Assignment

 

“Napoleon Solo this is not what I had in mind when I asked for an assignment,” Jo was driving them to the airport. Her hair blowing wildly in the wind, “Being a chauffeur is not my idea of a mission.”

 “You’re still on light duty and your exact words were, ‘Give me something to do to get out of this steel prison’.” he said chuckling.

“Illya, say something.”

“It is what you asked for,” and returned to the book he was reading. He was getting use to the banter between the two and ignored it.

“Next time, don’t get incapacitated and you won’t have to be taken off the active agent roster,” he suggested.

“Fine, I will tell the next Thrush agent who is interrogating me, not to hurt me as it upsets the UNCLE’s duty roster,” she responded sarcastically.

He laughed and turned to watch the car that was following them. Waverly was right; Thrush was waiting for the two agents to lead them to the prisoner held by UNCLE.

When they arrived at the airport, she pulled into the departures lane. Cars surrounded them while the sound of foreign voices and the yelling police assaulted their ears. As they exited the car, Illya leaned over and gave Jo a peck on the cheek, “See you in a few days.”

Napoleon also leaned over to give her a kiss but she turned her head, “Your idea of an assignment was not funny.”

 “My love, rules are rules.”   He gently took her face and turned it up toward him. She allowed the kiss which was long and wanting. “Keep my bed warm.”

“It has been a long time since I was able to warm it up.”

“Stop getting shot and tortured.”

He gave her one last kiss lasting until Illya slapped him on the arm, “The plane boards in 10 minutes, and I for one do not want to explain to the ‘old man’ why we missed it.”

“Now Napoleon,” he said as he started toward the door.

“See you in a few days,” he said as he turned to follow his partner, “I better go or he’ll sulk all the way to Germany.” A quick wave and he was gone, but not before he noticed the two Thrush agents getting out of their car and following him.

While the Thrush agents shadowed them into the terminal, another one called in, “Sir, you were right.  They sent Solo and Kuryakin who just went inside. They were dropped off by Jo Kuryakin.”

“Excellent take her, she’ll work well for our next step. This is even better than I planned.”

**********                  

 

Jo pulled up in the parking structure under their apartment.

“Hi, Miss K. How did you ever get Mr. S to allow you to drive his baby?” asked Jimmy McLaughlin, the UNCLE parking attendant.

Only 20, he was 5’10”, black wavy hair that he combed back continuously, hazel eyes which were frequently full of enthusiasm and wonder when talking to Section 2 agents. Dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans, he looked like the typical biker youth of the day.

He had the basic UNCLE training, belonged to Section 5, and was waiting for his 21st birthday to attend Survival School. He knew all the agents in the building and their cars. Napoleon’s blue Corvette convertible was his favorite.

“No one except Mr. K gets to drive it and that only when Mr. S can’t.”

“Just need to know the right incentives, Jimmy. Mr. S would like a complete overhaul while he is gone. Could you see to it tomorrow morning?”

 “Sure thing. You need any help?” he knew she had only gotten out of Medical a few days before and was still healing. One look and he smiled, “Sorry I asked. Have a pleasant day.”

She parked in Napoleon spot, put up the roof, and stepped out of the car. She heard her name yelled, and turned seeing two burly guys coming toward her while another was hitting Jimmy. Before she could pull her gun all the way from it shoulder holster, she felt a sharp pain in her neck before darkness had come.

Thrush Abroad

“I see our friends are aboard,” Illya had spotted two Thrush agents sitting in the back of the plane.

“We’ll have to see what we can do about them. There’ll probably be more waiting at the airport,” Napoleon grinned. “How much longer before we land?”

“Thirty minutes, what are you planning?”

“Just going to visit the men’s room.” He removed a clip from his pocket carefully and removed two darts from it. On the return trip, he tripped falling into the two men.

Reaching his partner, “Our guests were very tired. I think they’ve decided to nap for a while.” Then he notified HQ that they were being followed, and to create a distraction when they landed.

As they exited the plane in Bonn, Germany, they blended into a group of ‘travelers’ who were at the gate and smiled when they saw that a tall blonde agent and his dark haired partner were part of the group.

“You called for a diversion,” Mark Slate said as he joined them.

April Dancer slipped her arm into Napoleon and Illya’s. “We were on our way home, and the ‘old man’ asked for us to set something up.” Soon, they were across the terminal and out the door into the waiting taxi before the men following them caught up.

 April and Mark gave them a wave farewell and their cab into the city pulled away.

With their car hemmed in, the Thrush agents were left without a way to follow them. “Verdammt (Damn it),” the one said, “The boss is going to be pissed.”

………..

Chapter 2

Napoleon and Illya traveled from the Cologne/Bonn airport to the office through the older sections of Bonn.  On the ride in, they passed though the beautiful mountain area highlighted by green lush grass spread out before the hills.  Ahead of them, they could see the skyscrapers of modern of Bonn.  Although the city was the one of the centers of Germany’s business, many old buildings still stood.  

As they passed each old building, they noticed that they still held the old world charm flanked by chestnut trees.  They passed Beethoven's birthplace that was now a museum and located near an open the market place. The Old Town Hall housed the current University offices; while Kurfürstliches Schloss, the old residence for the prince-elector was now the botanical garden. 

Harry Beldon

UNCLE’s field office was behind a small clock shop in this older part of town.  The back room of the shop was reserved for special orders and visiting agents entered through this door.  As the New York partners turned the clock to 6:45, the hidden door to UNCLE opened.  A pretty, young blonde-haired woman smiled at both agents.

“Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, Wilkommen in Bonn.”

Napoleon gave the receptionist his best smile, “ _Veilen Dank, meine Liebe_.”

Illya rolled his eyes as they entered the main building, “Really Napoleon, your German accent is no better than your French one.”

“Your just jealous that women find it appealing,” he replied and led the way to the Section One Office.  Although Berlin was their office main office, Harry Beldon, who was Waverly’s counterpart in this section of the world, liked this city better.

Beldon disliked Napoleon because of the help he had given Illya when he had transferred to New York.  “Come in,” he said raising and grabbing Illya’s hand.  “It has been way too long, sit down. When are you coming back to your home?” and as a second thought, “You too, Solo.”

Napoleon was used to the German’s leader indifferent treatment and allowed his partner to take the lead in this discussion.

“Sir,” Illya was never comfortable with calling him Harry as he requested, “I am sorry but my partner is from New York.  We are here to pick up the prisoner and take her to New York.”

“Yes, Alex does like to have the big fishes we catch questioned in his office.”  Both men tried not to squirm under his glaze.

“Sir.”

“No need Mr. Solo; I understand Alex perfectly.   Well gentlemen, she won't be ready to travel until tomorrow.  There was a small incident during her capture, and the doctors believe she needs a little more time to recuperate before flying.  Take the day to see the sites and rest.”

The New York agents left the room, “We better call in,” Illya suggested.  “Waverly is not going to be happy.”

“I think that’s Beldon’s intention.  However, I believe it would be advisable to make this call outside of the office.  How about lunch after we visit Miss Aaleigha Vonfleckenstein?”

“Strange name for a Thrush agent,” Illya commented.

“Why what does it mean?”

“Truth,” both men laughed that, “Guess her parents would’ve thought twice about naming her, if they knew what her career path would be.”

The man arrived at medical to find that the prisoner had received a relaxer to help her rest without being in a drug state and was unavailable until later that evening.  Napoleon looked over the sleeping woman noting her long blonde hair, creamy soft skin, luscious lips that was visible above her covers.

“Well at least one of us should have a good time with this assignment.”

“Jealousy isn’t becoming,” Napoleon said giving the lady a second look but surprising himself when he started to compare her to Jo.  ‘Boy have I got it bad’ he thought to himself.  The men left for lunch, hoping she would be awake by the time they returned.

Lunch

As lunch was typically the biggest meal of the day in Germany, the men had a large selection to choose from.  They decided on a buffet including homemade potato salad, carrot salad, cucumber salad, tomato salad, green bean salad and mushroom salad.

Other sides included cut pineapple, fruit pudding, toss green salad, with sides of cheese, ham, eggs, croutons, salad peppers and cottage cheese and homemade potato soup.  The mean dishes include bratwurst, schweinebraten, sauerbraten, and wiener schnitzel.

 Followed by red cabbage, sauerkraut, catfish, shrimp, grilled salmon on rice, spaetzle, brisket, meatballs, jaeger gravy and baked bread.

The smell of the food peeked their appetites and Napoleon enjoyed many of the things offered.

“You know, even you can’t get us kicked out of here,” Napoleon teased his always hungry partner who was on his third helping of everything that was being offered.  Instead of answering, Illya just continued to eat.

Over lunch Napoleon contacted Waverly on his private channel.  “Yes sir, he has informed us that it would be tomorrow before we can escort her to New York.”

“Very well.  Just be on the lookout for any problems.  Have you gotten to talk to her yet?”

“No, sir.  The doctor had given her a relaxer before we arrived, and she won’t be up until later today.  Was there something you needed us to do right away?”

“Gentlemen has the prisoner made any threats against UNCLE that you’re aware of?”

 “No, is there problem? 

“There might be.  We haven’t heard from Miss Kuryakin since yesterday when she was parking your car.” 

“Did something happen to Jo….ah Miss Kuryakin?” Napoleon asked as Illya leaned closer to him.

“She and the parking attendant in your building were attacked, and she was taken.  Continue with your assignment and I will address this situation.”

“Sir,” Illya began.

“Mr. Kuryakin, you have your assignment. Good day gentlemen.”

Where is Jo Kuryakin?

The two men looked at each other.  “Do you think that this assignment has anything to do with her disappearance,” Napoleon asked.

“I do not know, but obviously Waverly believes so.  Maybe we need to have a talk with Miss Vonfleckenstein as soon as possible.”

As Jo woke everything was black.  She could feel the ropes that bound her hands behind her and her legs to the chair.  The coolness of the room alerted her to the fact she was dressed only in a tee shirt and underpants.  Finally, she felt the bag over her head which accounted for the darkness. 

Behind her, she heard voices, but she was unable to hear what was being said.  Testing the ropes on her arms brought a quick response and several men came her way.  She waited for them to speak, but no one did. 

Finally she spoke, “Who are you and what the hell do you want?” she demanded.

No one answered her; instead she sensed the fist before it hit her. The fists continued yet no one spoke.  She began swearing at them in Russian, and yanking on the ropes.

 She fired off her demanded in Russian forgetting herself and where she was.  “ _Skazhi mne, chto, chert vozmi, proishodit!”_ Then remembering she switched to English, “Tell me what the hell is going on!” but once again received no answer instead the blows continued.

“ _Proklyatye trusy_ (damn cowards), afraid to take me on fairly.”

They stopped beating her as she seemed to be ready to pass out.  The hood was pulled off her head, and she slowly lifted her face.  Everything swam in front of her, until she could finally make out the sign with the warehouse’s name on it and the faces of the men standing there.  

Then she heard someone say, "I want pictures of everything we do." before darkness overwhelmed her.

Miss Vonfleckenstein

As the men entered the medical holding cell, they noticed that Aaleigha Vonfleckenstein was awake and complaining about the accommodations. 

“Miss Vonfleckenstein, I’m Napoleon Solo and this is my partner Illya Kuryakin,” he said while he finished his scrutiny of her.  Her body was firm and fit.  Shaped perfectly with long elegant legs sticking out from under the blankets, she grinned at this inspection. 

She undressed the two UNCLE’s agents with a gleam in her eyes.  “Oh, yes.  Alex’s golden boys.  I’ve heard of you and I do have to say Mr. Solo that I’m not disappointed in what I see.  Although Mr. Kuryakin, I think that they have understated your attributes.”

Both men chuckled at the comments as they weren’t use to such brazen scrutiny on the part of such a beautiful woman.  “Ah, we will be taking you to New York, madam,” Illya finally spoke.

“Do you gentlemen really think that you will get me there or even if you do that you’ll keep me as a prisoner?  Surely you understand that my people will stop at nothing to get me back.”

“Oh,” Napoleon said, “And what might you mean by that?”

“Come on now, surely Alex has informed you about our first move.  I believe Miss Kuryakin is now our guest and enjoying our hospitality at this time.”

Napoleon hand muscles tightened and his eyes began to deepen with concern.  “How would you know what is going on in New York?”  He knew his partner well and although the lack of expression on Illya’s face was masking his worry for his sister.

“Do you truly think I have no knowledge of what’s going on outside these walls, really Mr. Solo?  I was just surprised that it was Miss Kuryakin who was taken so easily.  Perhaps I should warn you, if I am not release, she will not be treated pleasantly.”

Napoleon looked her directly in her eyes, “And let me assure you Miss Vonfleckenstein if anything happens to her, you will find you’re stay with us very disagreeably.”

Illya looked at her and with a slow calmness that made even Napoleon shutter said, “This I promise you.”

“Well it seems we both have made ourselves clear.  When do I leave?”

“You leave for New York tomorrow; the doctor has decided you need the rest of the day to recuperate."

“Gentlemen, don’t ignore my warning.”

“And you do not ignore Napoleon’s.”  Illya said before leaving the room.

They returned to the park outside of the clock shop and called Waverly on his private channel again.  After he updated him on the outcome of their talk with the prisoner, Napoleon stated, “The doctor will released Miss Vonfleckenstein tomorrow morning.  The UNCLE jet will be ready at noon.  With 8 ½ hour flight and time differences should be arriving 2 pm your time.  I think it would be a good idea to have a security force waiting for us.”

“I agree, Mr. Solo and will see to it.  Now one of my concerns is how she found out about who it was that they took.  It seems that we have a mole in that office.”

“Do you want us to inform Mr. Beldon sir?”

“No, Mr. Kuryakin, I’ll take care of it.  I suggest however, that you and Mr. Solo keep a sharp eye out for trouble between now and tomorrow morning.  It might even be a good idea if you take a visitor’s room at the office for the night.”

“Yes, sir.  We’ll have the pilot notify you of takeoff.  Solo out.”

 “Well I guess it’s a dull gray room for tonight, tovarisch.”

“Instead of eating the cafeteria food, let’s dine out before going back to the office.”

Napoleon followed his friend to the nearest restaurant which Illya knew from working in Germany before.  A good meal would allow him to put the worry he felt for his sister aside for a while though he doubted that either of them would sleep tonight.

Cold, Damp, and Alone

Jo woke in a cell this time laying on an old mattress thrown into a corner which as stained and smelled of body odors.  The moss-covered walls were cold and damp, the earthen floor pot-holed and uneven. The fact that she remained in a tee shirt and panties didn’t help the chills running up and down her arms and legs.  

She sat up feeling pain throughout her face and chest, but seemed otherwise unharmed to any degree.  There was a bucket of water and ladle by the door on a small shelve that allowed her to quench her thirst.  The only other item in the room was a bucket in the other corner of the cell that was to be used for a toilet.

There were manacles attached to long chains on the ceiling and below them she noticed matching ones on the floor.  “Oh boy, this is not good Jo old girl,” she said aloud.  “What the hell do they want?  They have not asked me questions, or given any demands; Hell, they will not even talk to me?”

Jo couldn’t understand what was going on; the silence, the pictures. She knew she needed a plan to get out of here, but where was here.  Her thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the cell door.

Once again not one spoke.  Two men pulled her up from the mattress but while she struggled to pull away, they held her tightly.  They placed her under the chain and stripped off her shirt; another man let the chain down until they could clamp her hands into the manacles.  Next, they attached her legs to the floor manacles, although she was able to get one knee into the groin of one of the guards first.

“What do you _ublyudki_ _(_ bastards _)_ want?” she demanded.  Once more, no one said anything.

One of the men held a long slender rod in his hands, tapping it methodically as he walked slowly towards her, then he began beating her on the arms, then moved to her back, buttocks then finally her legs.

……

Chapter 3

She lay on the soiled mattress, pain radiating throughout her body. It was impossible to rest on her back and buttocks; her arms and legs were too heavy to move with agony. Her attempts to replace the shirt they had thrown next to her was extremely excruciating. 

They had taken pictures during the beating from all angles. The men didn’t seem to care that she could identify them so she knew they didn’t intend to release her. They had to be using these photos to convince UNCLE that they had her.

She hoped that Headquarters would get her message by using Thrush’s pictures against them. She knew the name of the place where they were holding her and if her plan worked, UNCLE would be able to find her.

The Flight

Napoleon, Illya and Miss Vonfleckenstein, left the office in an unmarked car and would be dropped off right next to the plane. As they approached the aircraft, both men removed their guns and prepared for trouble. “Miss Vonfleckenstein, you will walk directly up the stairs and cause no problems. Verstehen (understand).” Napoleon said showing her his gun.

She gave him an innocent smile, “Really, do you think I would try something. No, Mr. Solo your organization will willingly turn me over to Thrush, so that your Miss Kuryakin will be released to you.”

“We don’t bargain with Thrush or any other organization,” Napoleon repeated a phase he had used so many times before, but this time it had a personal meaning that caused his stomach to turn.

“We shall see Mr. Solo, we shall see.”

Illya moved from the car first checking out the area. The ping of a bullet made him duck, “Napoleon, at one o’clock,” he shouted.

After pushing their captive to the floor, Napoleon struck his head out the other door and fired, hitting the shooter. Section 3 agents left the plane and grabbed the woman as Illya pulled her out of the car.

Before the two agents could get up the stairs, a car screeched to a halt in front of them and men jumped from it. The fist fight that followed lasted only a few minutes when other UNCLE agents ran from the plane, but by the end of it Illya had a bleeding lip and Napoleon a swollen eye. Although they were battered and bruised, they were able to continue with the trip while the Section 3 agents took the attackers into custody.

As they entered the plane, they heard Miss Vonfleckenstein say, “I warned you gentlemen that I don’t need to do anything, my people will,” smiling she added, “Can I get you some ice?”

“Just sit down and buckle in,” Illya growled as he headed for a seat himself.

Napoleon sat across from him smiling, “We just couldn’t get out of here without some sort of complication could we?”

 “Could you use and ice pack", the attendant offered Right before takeoff. 

“'Can we ever” Illya answered back in a muffled voice. “You have the first watch" addressing his partner then he leaned back closing his eyes.

It was Napoleon's turn to sleep when he was woken as a pillow hit his head.  “Wake up, we are coming into the airport,” Illya informed him from his comfortable chair. “Waverly has a helicopter, and a group of Section 2 and 3 agents waiting for us.”

 “You couldn’t have just called my name,” Napoleon complained opening one eye,

“I did a number of times and you did not respond.”

“I really hate when we arrive someplace hours after takeoff and find we just to have to relive the day.”

“Just think, the extra time it allows you.  You can increase the number of dates you can have in one night,” Illya suggested.

Napoleon woke the prisoner as she made a sour face at him, “Miss Vonfleckenstein, buckle your belt we’re about to land,” he said as she opened her eyes.

“I need some time to freshen up; you really can’t expect me to make an appearance at UNCLE looking like this, do you?”

“Sorry but we are landing now. Your belt,” Illya responded coldly and impersonally.

She sighed and buckled it, “You really don’t know how to treat a lady, Mr. Kuryakin. Maybe your partner could give you some lessons.” She looked at Napoleon with a charming smile.

“If I were you, I would be more worried about what will happen if your threats about Miss Kuryakin are true. You are now in her home territory and her friends are unlikely to be happy with you. No matter how powerful and beautiful you think you are,” he responded.

She folded her arms across her chest, “I know what your charter says, and I know how your organization operates. Do not threaten me!”

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong. It's not a threat; it's a promise,” he said with a tone that meant he was deadly serious.

The transfer from the plane to the helicopter and then to the roof of UNCLE went without a hitch. The agents there escorted the prisoner to a holding cell, and informed Solo and Kuryakin that Waverly wanted to see them immediately.

The Pictures

As they entered Lisa Roger’s office, she looked up and gave them a sad smile. “He is waiting for you. I’m sorry,” she said as she pressed the button to open the secure door.

“Sit down gentlemen. We still haven’t heard from Miss Kuryakin,” Waverly informed his two top agents. “No word from any source.”

Both men looked at him, “We would like permission to investigate sir,” Napoleon determinedly said.

Waverly seemed to be thinking over the request when Lisa entered the room with an oversized envelope in her hand. “Sir, this has just been delivered for you. Security has checked it out and said it’s safe.”

Napoleon and Illya watched while Waverly opened it. Inside was a series of pictures, necklace, and ring along with a tape recording.

Illya picked up the necklace. It was a gold and silver cross with a small stone-Siberian Lapis Lazuli, sky blue color, in each corner. Jo’s grandmother had given it to her as a child.

Napoleon reached for the ring and held it tightly in his hands. It was an onyx signet ring signet ring set in gold bezel sprinkled with diamond dust. A gold Chinese’s character for long life was in the center of the onyx. Two diamond chips accented the sides of the ring. He had given it to Jo as a commitment ring.

They both knew Jo wouldn’t have removed either piece willing.

The agents slowly examined the photographs, the first one showing a woman in a t-shirt and panties; hands bound behind her. She was seated in a chair with a black hood over her head, and they could see that her arms were badly bruised. The second picture revealed that it was indeed Jo, her face swollen and bruised as well.

The next group of photos showed her hands strung over her head as she was dangling from a ceiling chain. The next one revealed a man with a slender wooden rod hitting her and each additional picture showed her declining condition. The final one showed the results of the beating, red marks spreading across on her back, buttocks, arms and legs, and then obviously unconscious.

As they continued looking at the pictures, each agent was trying to keep his mounting anger under control. “The tape,” Waverly said as he started it.

A voice echoed as it began, “Hello, his is Seqüestrador if you don’t recognize my voice. As you can see we have Miss Kuryakin and just so you have no doubts of my intentions, the pictures should eliminate any reservations you hold. We will exchange Vonfleckenstein for her. As you can see we are capable of many things even without Miss Vonflekenstein so why waste your agent’s life for nothing?”

“We will give you three days to make arrangement for the exchange during which time we will attempt to keep Miss Kuryakin entertained and keep you informed with additional pictures daily. If you choose not to follow through with the exchange, later that day we will return Miss Kuryakin back to you for burial. And Alexander, reminder your agents that retaliation will neither save her nor help them rescue her.”

After Waverly clicked the tape recorder off, “Mr. Solo, get a team together and bring back our missing agent. Policy disallows trading Vonfleckenstein for her, but I won’t allow Thrush to believe they can get away with it.”

“Yes sir; don’t want to ignore our policies.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Mr. Solo.”

“Sorry sir,” Napoleon said, “Do you have any suggestions sir?”

“Nothing at all, I would suggest you start at the beginning. Gentlemen we need to achieve the recovery of Miss Kuryakin as quickly as possible. Mr. Kuryakin, I hesitate to assign you to this assignment as your personal feelings may make you careless.  I hope that you can control your personal feelings in this matter,” he continued, “It won’t do her any good if you don’t. So unless you can assure me that you can keep complete control in this situation, I will have to reassign you.”

“You have my word, sir,” Illya replied without emotions, “I will be professional.”

Waverly knew he could truth his agent to keep his word, “Okay then, you and Mr. Solo will proceed.”

Clues

The two men visited Jimmy in his UNCLE assigned room. He was still recovering from the injuries received during the kidnapping and for his safety; he was remaining at Head Quarter until it was over.

“Hi Jimmy. Are you up to telling us what happened?” Napoleon asked while Illya silently stood behind him.

“Mr. S, Mr. K, I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save her. I tried but these guys just jumped me and began punching me.”

“Slow down Jimmy, start from the beginning. What you saw and what you did, okay?”

“Sure Mr. S. Miss K came in the garage and we were kind of talking about how surprised I was she was driving your car. She asked me to have it overhauled, and I said sure. Then she went to park it. I was turning around when this other car pulled up.”

“Anything special about it?”

“Gee Mr. S; it was just a plain old black Ford, four doors, and a kinda funky license plate.”

“What about that plate.”

“Well Mr. S, they were the new style. They were orange on blue base and the first three letters NYC for New York City. Also they had New York spelled out instead of the old NY. However, there was a sticker on the corner that had a bird on it that was weird as we don’t have pictures on our plates.”

“Can you remember any of the numbers?”

“Only could see NYC-2, nothing more. Sorry.”

“No problem, continue Jimmy.”

“Well Mr. S this guy comes up and asks for directions. I began to give them to him, when suddenly these other guys start to go under the arm of the gate. I yelled at them to stop and hit the alarm, but the guy I was giving directions started to hammer me. I was able to yell out to Miss K's name but then they decked me. Next thing I know some Section 3 guys were slapping my face.”

“Anything else, you can think of.”

“Sorry, I can’t tell you more. I would have helped her if I could have,” he said frustration showing in his eyes.

“Thanks for your help,” Napoleon said placing his hand on the kids shoulder. He left the room, but stopped when Illya wasn’t behind him.

“Jimmy, you did you best. We will find her, I promise you this,” the coldness of his voice left no doubt in anyone’s mind that he meant every word of it and then followed his partner out of the room.

The two men spend the night looking over the site, all the information collected by the responding agents, running license number although none of the cars that came up fit the Jimmy’s description.

 The sheer number of papers had them retain a War room for the duration of the search. Nothing led to where Jo was being held. Both men were tired and hungry the next day having been up all night and skipping both dinner and breakfast.

Two hefty sandwiches were set in front of them but before they could snap at whoever had placed it on the papers, their heard, “Come on mates, eat up or you’ll have to face April’s wrath, she sent them in,” Mark Slate said, “As soon as you guys are ready to run with this, we want in.”

Napoleon grinned at his friend, “Thanks Mark. You’re on the team. Tell April to stop by in about an hour and we’ll update you,” he said as he began eating the sandwich. He noticed that his partner was downing his without tasting it.

Illya, who was silent as usual had said nothing for hours and seemed to have withdrawn into himself. “It’s set up partner. They have Miss Vonfleckenstein ready for our questions,” Napoleon urged him up.

As they approached the cell, they could hear her complaining, “It only 10 am.  How dare you wake me up at this ungodly hour?”

“Sorry that we disrupted your beauty sleep,” Napoleon said to her, “But we have some questions that we would like to ask you.”

Both men entered the cell Napoleon sitting at the table across from the prisoner, while Illya leaned on the wall behind him. “Oh, Napoleon. I had heard from Angelique that you were such a gentleman. This cell is just horrible, and they refuse to give me any of my makeup. Can’t you do something about it?” she asked as she tried to sit on his lap while running her fingers down his face.

Instead of being the usually charming man he was known for, he pushed her off and grabbed her hands, “Where is she?” he demanded.

“Who would you be talking about? Don’t tell me that you mean that little agent we are holding, do you?”

Surprising everyone even himself by slapping her hard enough to send her head whipping around; his desire to strike the woman again was held in check by his ingrained sense of gallantry.

Illya came away from the wall ready to step in if needed, but then he saw his partner gain control of himself. “You can’t do that,” she screamed at him, “You charter doesn’t allow it.”

“Do not tell me what I can and can’t do, I am the CEA here and will conduct my interrogations however I choose,” Napoleon anger was still just under the surface.

He was having a difficult time controlling it but he had to retain his professionalism; he couldn't afford to allow his emotions to control his actions now when Jo’s life was in jeopardy.

Illya stepped up and placed a hand on his shoulder letting him know he was with him. He knew that if he was the one questioning this woman that she would be dead.

“I have nothing to say to you gentlemen, and I use the term loosely. You forget that I have been a prisoner since before your agent has been kidnapped. I have nothing to say to you. Although, they spent the next hours questioning her, she said nothing else.

Napoleon and Illya walked back toward the war room. Sitting at the table going over the papers there were April, Mark, Andreas Petros, Jo partner, and 5 other junior Section 2, “We decided to just dig in, hope you don’t mind luv,” April explained, “There is a lot of others that want to help but I told them that you would call when you are ready for them.”

April, Mark, Andreas along with agents sat in front of Napoleon; “We will find and rescue her.” April noticed Jo’s ring on Napoleon pinky finger. She knew that it wouldn’t be removed until he could put it back on her hand himself.

After updating the gathering, the phone rang, “Napoleon,” Lisa said, “Mr. Waverly said to tell you and Illya another envelope has arrived.”

…..

Chapter 4

Pictures Once Again

The two agents left walking toward the Waverly’s office and the additional angst they knew that awaited them.  They wanted to make sure Jo was still alive, but what concerned them most was in what condition they would find her.

As they took their seats, each glanced at the envelope on the desk.  Fear began to tug at their hearts as they thought about what they would soon see.  “Gentlemen, your progress please.”

Napoleon shook his head, “We're checking the partial license plate number that Jimmy gave us, but there’s nothing.  So far, the pictures haven’t shown us anything except that the two sets are from a different setting.  We believe it the same building just different areas of it.”

“The background noise on the tape is being examined,” Illya continued.  “Communications believe they are from the warehouse district and still trying to narrow that down.  They believe it might be near the waterfront but we are not positive yet.”

“We have agents out checking areas that might be potential but it’s more of a hope then a certainty.  Agents Dancer, Slate, and Pedros are helping us go through the paper work from the site of the kidnapping and the other reports.”

“I’m afraid these pictures won’t be of any more help, but perhaps someone can come up with something,” Waverly said as he handed the envelope to the men.

He watched them closely as Solo took a deep breath and slowly pulled them out.  Solo inhaled a breath; Kuryakin’s eyes hardened as he looked over his partner’s shoulder.

Jo reminded chained to the ceiling but without any clothes on this time.  The man behind her was holding a cat-o-nine-tails and pictures showed the lash connecting with her back, legs and stomach.   The final picture showed her with her head lying on her chest and her back criss-crossed with deeply cut welts-reddened and raised. 

Waverly turned the tape on, “As you can see Alexander, I have kept my promise.  The men have kept Miss Kuryakin well entertained.  However, I thought perhaps you would like to hear her concerns yourself.”  Next, they hear Jo’s voice pain filled and angry.  “You _plotina ublyudki_ (damn bastards), what do you want from me?  Who are you? Are you so afraid of me that you do not speak?”  After that the voice changed back to whoever sent the tape, “She doesn’t understand what is happening to her and why.  How much good will she be to you after this little exchange?  Remember in two days,” with that the tape ended.

The rage was etched on the agents’ faces.  It was bad enough to be tortured when you at least had reasons, but to be told nothing.  They were physically and mentally abusing her. 

Both men left the office with the pictures returned to the envelope.  They said nothing and the looks on their face discouraged anyone from speaking to them.  As they entered the War room, everyone became quiet.  Napoleon walked over to the bar and poured himself and Illya a large drink.  Only after it was downed, did he speak.

“I’ll only say this once, anything seen or said in this room stays in this room,” as he threw the two envelopes of pictures on the table.  All the remaining agents sat and stared at it.  Finally, April picked it up and removed them.  As the gathered agents examined them, nothing was said.  Napoleon and Illya sat at the end of the table and waited until the pictures were set back down.

April looked at her two friends, and saw the anger, distress and dread radiating from them.  “We’re here for you.  Just tell us what to do.”  She walked over to the two and hugged them.  “We’ll get her back,” tears in her eyes had Napoleon hugging her back.

Finally, Illya said angrily, “Can we get back to work?  We only have two days to find her before they deliver her to us in a bag.”  The sarcasm dripping in his voice.  Cool, deadly, and determine, they knew whoever he went after wouldn’t have a chance.

The next 18 hours were spent sorting and eliminating sites and clues.  Nothing was coming to the forefront.  Waverly walked into the room around midnight.  “Gentlemen and Miss Dancer, unless you get some sleep none of your will be able do anything for Miss Kuryakin when she is found.  I am ordering all of you to get a meal and at least four hours sleep.”

Before anyone could object he finished,”Or you will be taken off this assignment.”  He left the room to a number of yes sirs, and walked back to his office.  He feared that this type of situation could undercut the moral of his agents.  He only hoped that they would all come out of this intact.

Pain Again

Jo lay curled up in a ball in agonizing pain.  They hadn’t given her back her clothes after the whipping and she was freezing.  She heard the door open again but refused to turn towards the person coming in.  Again not one word was spoken by whomever was holding her and she refused to ask them what they wanted.

 Fear began to crawl though her being, as she realized he was unzipping his pants and what was about to happen.  Although she knew it 'happened' to other female agents, she hoped she would never fall victim to such a demeaning act.  As he grabbed her, she retreated to her safe place, memories of her final birthday with her family before everyone was killed. 

Though mentally hiding in her safe place, in the back of her mind she knew that her humiliation was being photographed as the flashbulbs invaded her subconscious mind.  When he left her, a single tear fell down her cheek for what had happened to her both in the past and for what was just done to her

The next day every time the phone ran the agent would jump.  Finally the call they all waited for came.  Napoleon and Illya headed toward the main conference room, fearing what they were about to see.

Waverly handed the pictures silently to the two men after glancing at them.  They showed Jo still naked, her hands still tied over her head with a man on top of her. It wasn't hard to see what was happening as the number of photographs showed what he was doing to her. Napoleon’s rage colored his face.  He crumpled the last photo and slammed his hand down on it.  “I’ll kill those bastards,” he exploded. 

Illya on the other hand said nothing once more; instead, he was surprisingly cold and detached.  A dark rage smoldered in his blue eyes that changed them to a steel gray and dangerous.  His hands clenched and unclenched. Of the two men, Waverly knew that Kuryakin was the more dangerous, ruthless and deadly one when place in a position such as this.

“I want my agent back gentlemen, and I want her back now.” was all he said as the two men left the room.

Anger Explodes

Instead of returning to the war room, Napoleon took the pictures to his office without saying another word.  Illya retreated to his lab.  Napoleon sat at his desk while tears began to fall from his eyes as he looked over the pictures again.  The silence in the office was getting to him and he turned on a radio that was tuned to the station that Jo had on the morning they left to pick up Vonfleckenstein.

“I’m a Believer” by the Monkees was on.  When the chorus repeated for the third time

Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer  
Not a trace of doubt in my mind.  
I'm in love, I'm a believer!  
I couldn't leave her if I tried

He grabbed the radio, pulling it out of the outlet, and threw it against the wall, following the radio; he sent his pencil holder, stapler, and anything else he could get a hold of.  After his desk was cleared, he turned to Illya's desktop. 

Soon his angry changed to anxiety as he slowly sat down on the floor, reaching for the things he had thrown there. He watched as the blood run as if in slow motion from where he had injured himself. He remained oblivious to the pain as he laid his head on the desk letting the tears flow like the blood from his hand. He hadn’t let his feelings out like this since he lost his wife as a young man.

Crying helped clear his mind and allowed him to see how much Jo truly meant to him.  He wouldn’t lose her now that he had found her.  He would fight to find her and let her know how strongly he felt.  He knew that neither of them would give up their positions in UNCLE, but he would find a way for them to be together as much as possible.  He twisted her ring on his finger and promised himself he would find her to give it back.

Illya entered his lab and kicked the door as it slide closed.  He sat on his stool and looked over the beakers other equipment then in a fit of rage, he swept it all off his workstation, sending it crashing into the wall, shattering the glass everywhere. He would not lose her again.  Too many years had been lost to them because of the Germans and their own government interference.

This was 'different' from her dying in the line of duty; this was just one demented person who wanted to use another human being to get what they wanted.  He had lived under this type of system much of his life, and he refused to allow his sister to be lost again.  Both of them had tasted the freedom offered by UNCLE and he intended to keep that freedom alive.

He began to pick up the pieces and felt a sliver of glass jab deeply into his hand; the blood from it dripping to the floor bringing him back to the current problem.  The others in the lab heard the commotion and called Section 3 who notified Waverly.  

He wrapped his hand and headed back toward his office.  As he walked in, he saw Napoleon with his hand also wrapped. “Did you run out of things to throw?” Illya asked, seeing his and Napoleon's desktops empty. 

“How much is left of your lab?”  Napoleon said, eyeing Illya's hand, "I have a feeling both of us will have a smaller paycheck this month.”

The Confrontation

“Or whether or have a job in order to receive one." Waverly said as he came through the door.  “Image my surprise when I get not one but two calls from Section 3 telling me that two of my agents are tearing the place apart.”

“Sir,” both agents said as they stood up.

“I have warned both of you men that unless you can maintain your professional distance I would remove you from the case.  I do not consider breaking up your office Mr. Solo or you your lab Mr. Kuryakin very professional.”

“You are correct sir, but it did release our pent up tension,” Napoleon attempted one of his convincing smiles. 

“Mr. Solo I am not impressed by your smile or your attitude.”

Chastised, the two agents apologized softly. “Sorry sir," Napoleon continued, “I can handle this assignment and won’t let my personal feelings interfere with my professional conduct again.”

“We’ll see how well you maintain that professionalism.  You have one more opportunity.  Now I want both of you to report to medical and have those hands looked at.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they said “and thank you.”

“Just keep in mind I expect you to report to medical now, get your hands stitched, get something to eat before returning back to work, or I will remove you.  Remember they expect the exchange tomorrow morning, we have very little time for a rescue attempt.” Waverly ordered as he headed out the door.

As he walked back to his office, he understood how the two men he just left felt.  Everyone knew him as gruff and demanding, but he had to admit that those two men had gotten to him.  Often he allowed them to get away with things others agents wouldn’t have. 

They had seldom seen his gently and caring side, and in this case that side extended to the young woman Thrush was holding.  He would make sure Thrush knew that he would protect his people the best he could no matter what.

…..

Chapter 5

After finishing with medical Illya and Napoleon headed towards the cafeteria to get some food, as they knew that they had pushed Waverly as far as they dared. April met them there informing them that the group was going back over everything.

They were sitting at a corner table and ignoring all that was going on around them. The agents had tried everything and everyone, but no information was coming in about where Josephina Kuryakin was being held. Their self-confidence was the lowest it had ever been, and it having an effect on everyone around them. It was not a good omen when U.N.C.L.E.'s best were feeling that low.

They had barely eaten or slept in over 48 hours and would have remained in the war room if Waverly hadn’t forced them out. “Here eat this,” April said as she placed plates in front of them. “Neither of you are going to do her any good if you can’t stand up.”

A small voice spoke up, “Mr. S, Mr. K.” Jimmy stood behind them. “I want to say again how sorry I’m that I couldn’t help Miss K. I did try, but they just hit me and knocked me out. She always so nice to me, and I would do anything for her. Can’t you think of anything I can do to help her, please?”

The two men glanced at the young man who had a tear in his eye. It finally struck them that they weren’t the only ones suffering and how unfairly they have been treating others. They were supposed to set the example, which at this moment wasn’t an exceptionally good one.

“Sit down Jimmy,” Illya offered. “Jo would be very proud of you for trying to help her, and we are working on finding her,” he looked at the young man and knew he needed to be part of the search, “Thanks for offer, there is just one thing we need but it’s not much.”

“Anything, anything at all.”

Napoleon suggested, “Well with all of us so busy, we’ve been too busy to eat and could use someone to help out that way.”

“No sweat, Mr. S. I’m your man.”

April sat there with her two friends making sure every bite was gone before the three agents and Jimmy returned to the war room.

Napoleon said, “Your attention please.” Everyone quieted down and looked at him. “Alright gentlemen and ladies enough of this moping around; we have a missing agent that we’re going to rescue.  We’re going over everything once more with a fine-tooth comb. Jimmy here is going to help us out with coffee and food. No more excuses everyone needs to be in top shape.”

Everyone noticed the change in Napoleon; he now seemed the confident CEA they all knew him to be.

Jo’s Signal

A little later in the afternoon, Jimmy went by April to drop off coffee and happened to see some of the less-revealing photographs of Jo Kuryakin. “Those dirty rotten bastards.  How could they do that to her?”

April grabbed the pictures before he saw any of the later ones but stopped when he said, “Hey man, I didn’t know Miss K knew sign language.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her hands, they’re making letters, you know like the deaf talk. My sister can’t hear.”

“Illya, does Jo know sign language?” April yelled out.

“She learned it for an assignment last year. Why?”

“Jimmy, tell them what you see.” April encouraged.

Jimmy was a little uncertain as the agents all stopped, looking in his direction, “I was just telling Miss D that in the pictures Miss K is making letters with her hands, like the deaf people do.”

Jimmy immediately offered to help out, ““I can tell you what the letters are sir; I use it all the time at home with my sister.” Although they needed to identify the letters, they weren’t sure if they should allow him to see the rest of the pictures. The violence visible increased on each one.

 “The pictures are very graphic,” April warned.

“I want to help Miss K,” he insisted, “I know that I can do it for her.”

Napoleon looked at his assembled agents,“Okay, Jimmy just let us know if it too much, we can stop if need be.”

The room was silent as he took the photos in his hands, “She’s not making signs when her hands are behind her in the first three pictures, but here she starts looking at her hands and the letters start,” he explained.

As he looked at each picture and he called out a letter. “w o o l w o r t h w “ was the last letter that he could make out. After the last picture, Jimmy just dropped the photos.

“Excused me, I think I'm going to be sick” and then walked out quickly.

“I’ll go mate,” Mark offered. He found Jimmy leaning over the toilet bowl, vomiting. Mark wet a towel and handed it to him. “My first time, I threw up all over Napoleon’s new shoes,” Mark told him, “I thought for sure he would give me the boot right to the Arctic for a year.”

“But I tossed my cookies, man.”

“Even Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin have lost it at times. You’ll be okay, ready to go back and help out some more.”

Jimmy stood up and laughed, “At least I missed Mr. S’s shoes,” and followed Mark back to the war room.

Waverly had been called in and Napoleon was just starting to give his orders. He nodded at Jimmy, “Sir this is the young man who recognized the code Miss Kuryakin was using for us.”

Jimmy could feel himself fading into the background. This was the big man; the big boss. “Good job, young man,” Waverly said as he glanced at him, “If we’re all present, let’s start Mr. Solo.”

Reconnaissance

Although Napoleon wanted to go on the reconnaissance mission, he knew that his place was here directing the progress for now, “Mr. Kuryakin along with Miss Dancer and Mr. Slate will check out the warehouse. Once they have verified that Miss Kuryakin is in the building, we will move in to get her out and deal with the men who are holding her.”

As the three agents were leaving, Napoleon pulled his partner aside, “No heroic at this time tovarisch, understand? I want a shot at those bastards also.”

“Do not worry, not without my partner,” he said then left.

They arrived at the warehouse, seeing that the old brick building was showing its age; missing bricks, broken windows and moss covered walls made it look decrepit.  Grass was at least knee high and in some places it even reached April’s shoulders while piles of falling stones surrounded the building.

As the agents approached it, they saw a path worn to the door. Further investigation revealed the first floor and basement window were also covered by the tall grass, but were intact. There was a faint light coming through them and shadows could be seen moving back and forth.

They spotted men walking, rifles over their shoulders. "Thrush" Mark said identifying the obvious uniform the men wore. “Must be something important that they’re guarding, mate.”

“No way to be sure she's in there or not without going inside, but between the sounds on the tape and the generalized area, I would be willing to bet this is the place,” Illya nodded in agreement with Mark's conclusion.

They split up, each worming their way down to an area surveying the building further; the number of guards, and the timing of their rounds. They compared notes once they were back together again. “If we take out the guards on one side, we'll have ten minutes to get our men inside before they'll realize someone is missing," April suggested.

Illya decided that they needed to check some of the windows. "Stay here.”  April grabbed his arm, but he pulled it away. “Do not worry, I intend to do nothing that will prevent me from killing that _ublyudok_ myself when this is over.”

He slipped toward the river side of the building as the guard passed his location, and then ran to one of the windows. A hurried examination showed that there were outside alarms and pressure plates lying on the inside sills. Just as the guard was returning, he managed to disappear into the tall grass covering his retreat.

When the three returned, they shared their intelligence with Waverly and a room full of Section 2 and 3 agents. He had ordered the show of force and called for extreme prejudice against Jo Kuryakin's captors.

“I want all of Thrush to understand that we’ll not stand for this type of attack against our agents" he announced, then returned to his office to follow the actions of the assault force.

 “Okay, this is the only lead we have and the place is well guarded.  Remember, we’re to get Jo out whatever it takes,” Napoleon informed the team.

Illya sat quietly during the briefing but the chill in his ice blue eyes made the assembled agents shiver and pray that they never would be the person that he was after.

Rescue

Andreas led the team of agents while April, Illya, Mark, and Napoleon would be the first through the window one after another. They slithered up to the edge of the grass before taking out the guards with knives. Illya disconnected the external alarm and bypassed the pressure plate. The four agents entered the first floor in silence.

They ensured that no one overheard their entry before they split up-with April and Mark going in the direction of the basement, while Napoleon and Illya took the first floor. Once they were in place, the rest of the team was notified to come in. While the people inside the building were busy defending the building, the other four went in search of Jo and Seqüestrador.

Napoleon and Illya searched each room. The first three rooms were empty but the fourth room had a tape recording system and the same chair that was in the first set of pictures that they had received. A desk set in the center of the room that UNCLE would examine later.

The knob on the next door wouldn’t turn, but they could hear someone moving around the room. Together they kicked it in, Illya to the left and low while Napoleon entered to the right and high. They hit the ground as bullets whizzed by them, rolling and using armchairs for cover.

Unsure of their attacker, Napoleon shouted above the racket outside the room where his agents were now entering. “You haven’t a chance, give up.”

“Forget it Solo, I’m not stupid enough to believe that I going to get out of this place alive,” the man shouted back and accented the words with another round of bullets.

“Seqüestrador?” Illya asked angry. 

“You got it. So you see I have nothing to lose. Even if you don’t kill me, my life is over as I’ll never survive in one of your jails.”

“Don’t worry about the future, you do not have one,” Illya spoke through clenched teeth.

As the man turned toward him, he dropped back behind the chair. While Seqüestrador was shooting at Illya, Napoleon dove toward his position knocking him down before he could turn the gun his way.

He released the anger and frustration of the last few days in a fury of fists hitting Sequesrador repeatedly.  Soon the man's face was a bloody mess and near unconsciousness.

Napoleon sensed that Illya was standing behind him and was sure his gun was in his hand. He looked at his partner as he stood up, leaving the bloodied man lying on the floor.  He knew no words would stop what would come next; Illya raise his gun and place a bullet between the Thrushman's eyes, saying “ _Ublyudok Nu ysetebepizda_ (You bastard, that’s it, you’re fucking dead). 

Both men looked at the body before them and turning away, Napoleon placed a hand on Illya’s shoulder and then proceeded toward the door saying, “Let’s find your sister.”

They walked through the warehouse where their team was rounding up the stragglers, and then headed down the stairs. Half way down, Mark contacted them, “We have her, last room on the right.” They took the rest of the stairs two at a time.

…..

Chapter 6

  
Mark and April found her in the last cell curled up in the corner. April knelt down next to Jo placing her hand on her shoulder, glancing around the room at the instruments of torture still with fresh blood.  
  
Jo pulled away, her eyes filled with terrified. “ _Prostoubit menya. Ne bolʹshe ,pozhaluĭsta. YA ne znayu, chtovyhotite._ ( Just kill me. No more please. I do not know what you want)” she moaned loudly in pain.  
  
Her body burned with fever, though she shook at the same time from the coldness of the room. There were bruises and deep bloody cuts covering her body, some of the badly infected.  
  
“It’s okay, you’re safe.”  
  
“April? _One ne mozhet bytʹ . Eto vsego lishʹ yeshche odin son_ (It cannot be. It is just another dream.)”  
  
“ _My zdes dlyatogo ,chtobydostavit Vas_ domoĭ. (We’re here to take you home.)” April spoke in Russian, trying to get her to understand.  
  
“April? Home to Kiev?” She coughed, grabbing her side; she seemed not quite sure where she was.  
  
“No luv, to New York. Mark, give me your jacket she’s freezing,” April called out. He tossed it to her, and she placed it on the shivering agent. “Napoleon and Illya will be here in a minute, just rest now.”  
  
Mark protected the entrance, sending off intermittent shots from his special when someone peered around the corner, until they were finally dispatched. April held Jo in her arms, brushing her hair from her forehead, speaking softly to reassure her that she wouldn’t be hurt again.  
  
Finally, Illya and Napoleon arrived, seeing her condition looked toward April.   She glanced up at them, answering their unspoken question. “Not good, she’s out of it. Some broken ribs I think, her back is infected, and she has been bleeding, better get a Medical team in here and quickly.”  
  
Napoleon knelt down taking her hand into his. “Hang in there, I’m not letting you go; so don’t you even think of leaving me.”  
  
Illya looked down at his sister and whispered, “ _Ty ne umreshʹ .Ty obeshchalmnevernutʹsya, yeslimozhno.YA bududerzhatʹ vas v tom, chtoobeshchanie._ (You will not die. You promised to come back to me. I will hold you to that promise).”  
  
The Medical team entered the room; pushing the agents aside so they could begin stabilization the agent.

  
Mark seeing his partner’s distress pulled her into the hall and wrapped his arms around her holding her as she cried. “That could be any one of us; she couldn’t even stop them by giving them what they wanted. They never asked her for anything.”  
  
“Luv, Waverly’s message will be heard loud and clear by Thrush. They’ll think twice before they try something like this again. Torture and death are expected in this game, but shouldn't be accepted; neither should indiscriminate killing ever be acceptable.”  
  
Jo woke up during the flight crying out in pain. Napoleon held her hand and spoke soothingly until she once again closed her eyes. She was taken by helicopter to the roof of UNCLE where the hidden entrance behind a billboard opened to admit them to the building.  
  
Dr. Towers was on duty and met the gurney as the elevator door opened. He escorted her to the emergency area, closing it off and blocking the other agents from entering.  
  
During the examination, she ignored everything around her, not speaking or looking directly at anyone.  Josephina Kuryakin felt nothing. She was numb, empty and void of any emotion. She could feel only the pain from her wounds, for now that was what she would focus on; not what had happened.  
  
It seemed that when an agent was down, everyone was aware.  Napoleon and Illya paced the halls that were full of friends and fellow agents offering them comfort while Jo was taken to surgery.  
  
Dr. Towers finally emerged from the operating suite after six hours had passed; he was quickly approached by the two men eager for news.   
  
“She’ll be okay. It will be a long recovery period at least six weeks or so for her to physically heal, the rest will be up to her. We repaired her damaged liver, one of her broken ribs punctured a lung and we had to insert a chest tube to re-inflate it, we set her broken jaw too.   
  
“A plastic surgeon took care of the wounds on her back, posterior, legs and her wrists to minimize scarring.”  


“Now, for the other part of the exam.  She was assaulted multiple times; no permanent physical damage although there are tears and bruises that will heal, but you must understand this, she’ll need time to heal emotionally from this.”  
  
“She’ll probably not wake up until tomorrow morning so I suggest you get cleaned up, eat, and some rest.” The look in the eyes told him that they wouldn’t be leaving. “Okay, I’ll be placing her in Room 6; you can wait in there for her after you get cleaned up. She doesn’t need more germs from the dirt you’re carrying.”

  
The two men thanked him and headed toward the showers. After bathing and changing they returned to Medical, taking up the vigil at her bedside.  
  
When Jo woke the next morning, she saw them sleeping in chair next to her, but couldn’t talk to them. Her jaw hurt too much was the reason she gave herself, but in reality she wasn’t ready to face them.  
  
She attempted to turn only to be struck with severe pain shooting though out her body. She cried out, waking both of them. They sent for the doctor while Napoleon helped her to change position, then took her hand kissing it and said. “Moya lyubov (my love),” Illya brushed her hair from her forehead, saying nothing.  
  
She pulled her hand from Napoleon’s, then turned her head away from her brother’s touch.  
  
“Please leave.”  

  
They were shocked that she would ask that, Illya replying to her “Jo, I know this is hard, but?”  
  
“Both of you please, I am fine.  I do not need your worry—leave.”  
  
“Gentlemen, if would please excuse me and let me examine my patient?” Dr. Towers had walked in hearing her request.

 

Unhappily the two men were leaving the room and heard Jo muttering,” I do not want either of you; I cannot want you.”  
  
After they left she looked at the doctor, “I do not wish to see or speak to anyone.”  

   
“I can if that is what you want, but Jo they have been waiting to see you for a long time. Are you sure?’  
  
“Yes,” She turned her head toward the window with tears in her eyes, “I cannot face anyone right now.”  
  
After being ejected from Jo’s hospital room, Napoleon walked the labyrinth of gray cold corridors, his head hanging, not hearing the greetings and concerns of his colleagues. Entering his office he sat at this desk; holding her onyx ring held in his hand, staring at it with sadness in his heart, she had said she didn’t want him.  How could he let her go?  
  
The door behind him opened quietly and he felt his partner’s hand grasp his shoulder with a firm grip.   
  
“Give her time. The doctor said she was assaulted multiple times... she needs to come to terms with what those animals did to her.” Illya’s voice was colored with anger.  
  
They both were dealing with this deeply emotional situation in their own way, but knew they would provide each other strength when needed. The abuse she had undergone had left her physically, mentally, and emotionally withdrawn. No amount of support from them would help her out of her depression until she was ready to come out of it herself. The doctors repeated that they needed to give her time.  
  
Napoleon laid his head on his desk drifting to an uneasy sleep. Dreams of what he and Jo had shared together haunted his tired mind. He knew the first time he saw her, she was special. Standing looking out Waverly’s window, she was so sure of herself and her abilities. That simple beauty that she didn’t even realize she had.

 

The first sight of her at the nightclub singing, the beauty he had seen became passion on his part; Napoleon’s passion grew until it became love. But went she accepted his commitment ring, it convinced him that she felt the same about him. Now he sat holding that ring, wondering would things ever be the same between them.  
  
Alexander Waverly paid a rare visit to medical to check on Miss Kuryakin, finding her facing the wall when he entered her room.   
  
“Ah, Miss Kuryakin, are you awake?”  
  
“Sir,” she attempted to turn but found it too painful.  
  
Realizing her discomfort Waverly came around to the wall side of her bed.  “May I?” pointing to the chair.  
  
“I understand that you’ll be in here for a little while. You do know that everyone is very concerned about you?”  
  
She nodded but said nothing.  
  
“Don’t allow your fear to push away the people who want to help you, my dear. Take the time you need, but include others in your recovery.”  
  
“I am fine, sir.  Just needed a little time by myself to work this out.  If you see my brother, could you ask him to stop by?”  
  
After Waverly left, Jo laid thinking.  ‘Why am I doing this, I want someone to care but I keep pushing them away.  They only want to help; I just cannot let them know how much it hurts.’  She knew that only by not allowing others in would she be safe.  After all, she was an UNCLE agent and needed to be strong.  With that last through, she began to drift off to sleep where she was safe from harm and pain.

  
Waverly left medical, heading to Solo’s office for a long overdue talk.  As he was walked along the corridor he passed Kuryakin, stopping him and delivering the message from his sister.  
  
Illya went straight to Jo’s darkened room, “ _Sestrenku. Ty spishʹ_ ?” (Little sister, are you asleep?)  
  
“Nyet. Come in.”  
  
“You frightened me again.” he whispered.  
  
“I did keep my promise; I came back.”  
  
“Totally? Will you come all the way back to me?”  
  
Jo smiled for the first time in days, “ _Bolʹshoĭ brat ,yabuduu vas yestʹ sestrauznali ._ (Big brother, I will be the sister you have come to know.)”  
  
Illya gently placed her lapis necklace around her neck as she began to doze off again.  
  
“Babushka will also watch out for you” he said, kissing her on the forehead, “ _Otdyh moya lyubimaya sestra . YA budu zdesʹ dlya vas._ ” (Rest my beloved sister. I will be here for you).  


As he exited the room, Illya leaned against the wall, a tear running down his face.  He wiped it off quickly heading toward his lab which would be almost empty at this time of night.  He sat in the darken lab thinking about the promises he had made to his parents.  He promised to protect her but had failed her too many times. 

 

Maybe if they had grown up together things would have been different, but she had grown into an independent, proud woman who was her own person.  He placed his head on the counter top and cried for her and all they had lost. 

 

Not since the day they were separated and believed the other dead had he allowed tears to overtake him.  At long last, he wiped his tears away, slammed his hand on the counter, and vowed that they would have time together once she was well to discover each other and spend what life they were allowed in their line of work to have as a family.

  
Waverly entered the CEA office.  
  
“Mr. Solo, it is time we have a conversation.”  
  
Napoleon was sure he knew what the ‘old man’ wanted to talk about. He had made it clear more than once about his feelings regarding the dangers of commitments outside the office and indulging in physical relationships during assignments.   
  
‘Well at least he could assure Waverly that they were keeping their personal and professional life separated.’ Solo thought.

  
“Sir, before you say anything. Jo and I are just discovering what we feel for each other. We have kept our professional lives just that.”  
  
“Mr. Solo, you know my feelings about this type of situation, so I won’t repeat them now. Remember you are the CEA and Miss Kuryakin one of your agents, both of you need to give this situation a great deal of consideration before you go any further. Very well then, I’ll drop this for now.”

 

“As far as Miss Kuryakin’s recovery; you must be patient with her. What she went through will result in emotional scars whether man or woman. Be aware of them, and accept her decisions accordingly.”  
  
Showing one of his more human moments, he gently patted his chief agent on the shoulder.  
  
After Waverly left, Napoleon laid down on his couch, falling asleep. He was woken by his partner later that evening when Illya told him that Jo wanted to see him.  
  
Napoleon sat next to her once more with her limp hand in his as she slept. Words of love drifted from his lips. Soon one tear slid from his eye, gently landing on her hand. As it dropped on her skin, he felt her hand stiffen slightly.  
  
He looked into her eyes, seeing an awareness that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.   
  
“Napoleon,” she said softly holding his hand tighter, “Do not cry.”  
  
“I love you Jo.”  
  
“You can’t, not anymore, not after what has happened,” she replied turning her face away from him.  
  
“That wasn’t you; it was Thrush. Don’t let them make it more than that,” he pleaded. “Don’t let them destroy our love.” He reached back and cupped the back of her head with his hand, bringing face and lips closer to his but she pulled away.  
  
“I cannot Napoleon; I need time, please.”  
  
“Jo, don’t turn me away.”  
  
“I am not, but I just cannot handle this right now. I need to take this slowly. Allow me to sort out what had happened to me in my own time?”  
“As long as you don’t reject me, I’ll wait for you as long as it takes no pushing, no demands, and no pressure. Just give me a chance?”

…..

Chapter 7

The next few weeks Jo spent in medical where gradually the individual tubes and machines were removed.   The oxygen was one of the first things to go once the chest tube was removed and the pain in her ribs decreased enough for her to breathe deep enough without help.  As she began to eat, shakes and blended foods were offered.  Although unhappy with the selection, her appetite did return.

It was almost a week before she was able to participate in PT to strengthen the muscles injured by the beatings.  However the bandages that wrapped her body and the tightness of healing flesh caused the muscles to resist the treatment at times.  She complained every time she had to take part in the sessions but admitted to herself that it was helping as the time went on.

During this time, although she was visited by many of her friends and coworkers, she kept what happened to her close to her heart not sharing it with anyone but often woke up crying out from the nightmares that assaulted her in dreams.

Waverly visited her once again. “Miss Kuryakin, how are you today?”

“Fine sir,” the typical Section 2 answer.

“That’s not what I heard, rather that you still having nightmares, moodiness, and not eating well. They are also concern that you are not fighting to be released yet; something I understand is a norm for you.”

“Truly sir, I am improving, and as for not arguing about being released yet, I would think they would be happy. Besides I have not seen my friendly head shrink yet.” She said sarcastically. “I know that I have to get his clearance before returning to work.”

“True but I was under the impression that work release is still weeks away.”

“Yes, sir. I am just trying to get everything that needs to be done finished so that I can return to work when physically able.”

“Remember, it not only being physically able that is important; emotionally able is also important. I think that I can help a little bit with your concerns in that area. The pictures from this incident have been placed in my private files. Miss Kuryakin.  No one other than those who have already seen them, will ever see them.”

She took a deep breath; hating to admit the thought of the pictures had contributed to her nightmares and concerns, “Thank you sir,” giving him a small peck on the cheek which caught him by surprise.

Waverly fluttered for words, “I know this may not be the best time, but the sooner we discuss one other thing the better. This situation with you and Mr. Solo,” Jo gave him a quick glance and waited for the other shoe to drop.

 “You know the policy about relationships between Section 2 members and other members of UNCLE. I’ll be keeping a very careful eye on your situation. If I find a decrease in efficiency or interference with your assignments, I’ll separate you. I hope you understand what I am saying.”

“Yes sir.”

As he stood to leave, “Enough said; get better soon.”

Healing Begins

She was due to be released the next day when while napping she suddenly woke up, startled that she had not heard Dr. James Fryeĭd, the UNCLE psychologist, come into the room and sit in the chair next to her; she should have senses his presence before this.

Although she hated this part of the requirement, her previous interactions with him were surprising pleasant. He was someone who understood Section 2 agents and although his treatment was a little unusual achieved results.

“What took you so long?” she asked eventually. “I thought you would have stopped by much sooner.”

“I figured you needed to get physically well enough to handle the work we need to do. Remember, psychological health can be as tiring as physical.”

Jo hadn’t been looking forward to this part of the healing process, but if she had to go through this at least he was an acceptable choice.

“Tell me about it and how you're feeling about what happened,” he offered.

She thought about lying and saying she was fine but knew he won’t accept it, so she talked to him. Almost an hour later, she finished, “Everyone tells me that it okay, they understand; I should not blame myself.” She finished angry, “I did not stop it; actually could not even fight it. They can say it but how can they truly accept me after this.”

“From what I understand, at the time of the sexual assault you had been beaten severely having broken bones and internal damage.”

Stubbornly she said, “I am an UNCLE agent; these types of injuries are not uncommon.

“Are you sure that you’re not mixing up your inability to fight off the attack on you in that condition with what you believe you can do when you are perfectly healthy.”

She glared at him with one of her ‘don’t push’ looks but didn’t answer. “Really Miss Kuryakin, that look might work during a mission, but it doesn’t impress me. What is it that you really fear right now? Is it that others won’t accept you or is it whether or not Napoleon will continue to accept you as his lover?”

Jo stared at him uncertain how he knew. “Don’t worry, it’s not common knowledge; I could hear it in what you told me and what I know about you. Do you doubt that he loves you anymore?”

“He says he does,” she admitted, “But how can he?”

“Be honest with yourself, weren’t you ordered to sleep with a man or two to get what you needed in Russia. Does he hold that against you?” She shook her head no. “Then if he can accept you willingly sleeping with another man how can he not accept you in this case. You were unable to defend yourself."

Jo didn’t answer him, “You were the victim in case you have forgotten and need to understand that before you can move on. We both know you couldn’t have stopped them; everyone but you seem to know that. It seems to me that it is you that need to forgive yourself for something you had no control over. Even UNCLE agents can’t always win.”

“You do not understand; I gave up. I asked April to kill me—I had control over that and gave it away. How can I forgive myself for that?”

Tears slowly started to fall from her eyes turning into a flood of them. Dr. Fryeĭd held her tightly letting the tears continued until she was finished. As the tears began to dry up, she lay down exhausted from finally acknowledging the situation.

Fryeĭd tucked her in as she began to fall asleep, “We made a good start, and will talk further. Sleep peacefully now; don’t let the nightmares control you,” he said leaving her slumbering.

Jo was released the next day with orders to return daily for PT and visits with Dr. Fryeĭd,  As they approached the parking garage, Napoleon, who was driving her home, saw her stiffen. “We can park on the street if you like.”

“No, I have to start facing my fears. Go ahead.”

As they pulled in Jimmy let out a “Hi Miss K, so happy to have you home.”

“Thanks Jimmy. Ah could you help me out of the car, please. I’m still not up to speed.” Although something she normally would have never asked, it pleased him so much.

Jimmy hurried around to help her out and walked her to the elevator where Napoleon joined them. “Thanks for your help,” Jo said as she placed a kiss on his cheek causing the young man to blush, “When you are done with survival school next year, I would be proud to have you as a partner sometime.”

Jimmy returned to his post with a skip in his step. “That was nice of you letting him help you,” Napoleon said to Jo.

“Without him, I won’t be here. He will make a good agent,” she said as they ascend to her apartment.

The following weeks were spent healing as an outpatient. She spent time with physical therapy and Dr. Fryeĭd, where she went from acknowledgement to acceptance. Released by all of concern, she was ready to go back to work.

When Napoleon was around they went out to dinner, then dancing once she felt safe enough to allow him to touch her once again, while kissing and hugging took longer.

He let her control how much attention she was willing to accept, allowing more and more as the weeks when on.

Commitment

Then one night they stood outside her door when he leaned down to kiss her goodnight. “Would you like to come in?” Jo asked him.

“Are you sure?” he asked uncertainly. She handed him the keys allowing him to open the door and disarm the alarm.

Once inside, he was greeted by a deep, hungry kiss. “I have missed you so much.”

He was undecided as to what to do with his hands; not wanting to go further than she was ready to go. She answered his unspoken question by slipping her arms around his waist saying, “I am not a China doll that will break.”

That was all he needed, he returned the kiss with desire and need. She led him to the bedroom and closed the door. Slow she began to remove his clothes. The jacket, shirt, and then the belt for his pants were undone and thrown on the chair. He removed her clothes and helped her into the bed.

She lifted the covers for him to slide in from the other side. “Are you sure?” he asked again as he leaned in and kissed her forehead lightly.

“Never more. It was a bad dream but now it is over. I love you.” She slid closer to him and his strong arms. They began by slowly rediscover each other, touching, exploring, and running their hands over one another.

The softness of Jo’s skin and smell of her hair made his desire grown. He felt her beauty surround and fill him. She embraced the strength of his arms and the scent of him. The intensity of their love made everything feel right.

Relief filled her as the assurance and comfort he offered spread throughout her. His kissed her with a hunger he had held in for a long time. They desired it, craved it, and were starved for it.

Napoleon reached over and took something from the pocket of his jacket later that night. “I think that I have something that belongs to you,” holding up her ring.

He slipped it back on her finger that she offered him. “Thank you for keeping it safe for me,” smiling she looked at it, “Yes, it does look perfect there.”

Jo reached over and opened the top drawer of her nightstand and handed a wrapped box to Napoleon who looked questioningly at her.

“This ring means a lot to me; I want you to have something showing my commitment to you. I do not have anything that you can keep on you that Thrush won’t take but here is a little something to help you remember me when you are at home.  Especially on those long cold nights when I’m not around to warm up your bed, personally.”

He opened the box and found an onyx statue of a man and women standing together, her back against his chest as she looked over her shoulder at him. Her long hair the only thing between their bodies. He grinned at her, “Was this meant to keep me warm or make me hot?” he teased.

As Napoleon went to set up the statue on the table, it slipped from his hand hitting the floor and breaking a small round piece from the bottom. He picked up the statue and then the piece. He put the sliver in his pocket without her knowledge thinking to himself, ‘This will help me remember you and our commitment wherever I go’.

“Let’s see how we can cement this commitment tonight,” she suggested pulling him back into her arms.

Throughout the night, he continues to show her how much he was committed to her: giving her the safety, security, and love that Thrush had almost taken from them.

Jo woke up and felt for Napoleon; his side of the bed was empty, but then she heard the shower running. A knock on the door had her out bed covering up with a robe.

As she looked through the peephole, she remembered that she had made a shopping date yesterday with April who had just got back from an assignment.

She opened the door inviting her in. April stepped in smiling then stopped when she saw Jo still in a robe. "Forgot our date?”

“I am sorry,” Jo said just as Napoleon walked into the room, towel around his waist and drying his hair.

“Did I hear someone at the door?” he said as he looked up, “Oh, hi April,” he blushed that she had caught the two of them together.

“Napoleon Solo, you’re blushing. I never thought I would see the day,” She looked at Jo’s hand and saw the ring had been replaced, “Does this mean you two are back together.”

“We are back. Now that you know for sure, could you keep it between us?”

Laughing she said, “Of course, but can I come up once in a while for more eye candy.”

Jo looked at Napoleon over her shoulder, “I do not have a problem with that; do you Napoleon?”

Napoleon still a little red took the hint went back into the room to dress. When he returned, April was drinking tea with Jo. “Illya’s meeting me downstairs; we are off to our next assignment. Would you like to accompany us to the airport, Jo? We could spend a little more time together.”

“Wow, isn’t this where all the trouble started,” April teased.

“Thank you for the offer, but medical has me on restrictions for another week. I think I will abide by their decision this time. Besides April and I have a date to go shopping,” tilted her head up and gave him a kiss, then whispered in his ear, “ _Vernisʹ ko mne moya lyubovʹ._ (Come back to me my love.)”

“ _Vsegda_ , (Always).” He said as he pulled the door close.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
